Tony Dungy's 'Uncommon' Path to Excellence

Super Bowl winning coach Tony Dungy has penned a new book reflecting on what it takes to achieve significance. In "Uncommon: Finding Your Path to Significance," the man who was the first and only African-American coach to win the Super Bowl reveals the lessons he's learned during his lenghty coaching career.

Read an excerpt of "Uncommon" below and find out about his book tour below.

Character

Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.
Aristotle

Chapter 1
In 1998, the Indianapolis Colts were confronted
with a dilemma. Finishing the prior season with three wins

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against thirteen defeats, they held the first pick in the NFL
draft that April. Their selection would affect the direction of
the team for years to come, positively or negatively. At the
time, I was head coach of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, so I was
worried about my team in Tampa, and didn't realize what a
huge impact the Colts' selection would have on my life.
Bill Polian, president of the Colts, was faced with a difficult
choice between two great talents: Ryan Leaf and Peyton
Manning. Both were big players with strong arms: Leaf had
set numerous records at Washington State University, and
Manning had done the same at the University of Tennessee.
In hindsight, it seems like an obvious choice, but at the
time there was plenty of debate. Media analysts and scouts
around the league were split evenly, but Bill decided to select
Manning. There was no question Peyton had the physical
skills to be a great player, but what tipped the scales in Bill's
mind were Peyton's work ethic, his love for the game, his
approach toward football as a job, and his quiet private life.
Ultimately, when faced with the choice that would define
the course of the franchise, the Colts based that decision on
character, and that choice has resulted in great success for us
and for our future Hall of Fame quarterback.

For the Colts, character is a quality that can be measured
just like height, weight, and speed. In fact, we put more
emphasis on this area than we do on physical tools. Coaching
ability or talent cannot make up for a lack of character. In the
draft, there are only a few things that will knock a player out
of consideration for our team, and this issue of character is
one of them. We have a category on our evaluation form that
is labeled "DNDC"—Do Not Draft because of Character. Every
year, many players that we put in that category get drafted
in the first round by other teams, and some even go on to
become household names in the NFL. But we pass on them
because of something we see in their character that makes us
believe they are not worth the risk. Most of the time, we're
right. And those times when we are make it worth even those
times when we're not.

That's not necessarily the common approach today,
though. So often there is such an emphasis on results that it
doesn't matter how you get them. Moving up is more important
than the way you move up. It doesn't matter what kind
of person you are, just what kind of player you are. It doesn't
matter if you follow the rules or break them, just as long as
you come out on top. After all, that's what everyone will
remember at the end of the day. That's why we have to have
steroid testing in the NFL. That's why medals are forfeited
in the Olympics. Competitors have to ask themselves: Since
everyone is doing it, if I want to have a legitimate chance, I have to
do it too, right?

What you do is not as important as how you do it. Those are
the words that keep coming back to me when I am tempted to
choose what is expedient over what is right. People who bend
the rules to get ahead usually get caught in the long run. But
even if they don't get caught, they will always know how they
made it to the top. And at some deep-down level, they'll know
that they're frauds and that maybe they didn't have what it took
to accomplish such achievements on a level playing field.
The other problem is that, at some point, somebody who
does care how the game is played—a boss, a board of directors—
may well find out. For me as an employer, how you do
your job has always been more important than what you do.
Can you be counted on to do things the right way? Do you
have the appropriate habits to get you through a tough situation,
or are you the type to cut corners and hope things turn
out all right? Your character will determine the answer.
When I was growing up, my folks were very clear about
the importance of character. "Your word is your bond," my
mom would say constantly. The thought that someone might
think of her as unreliable or untrustworthy was the worst thing
possible. That's how she taught us to choose our friends—not
by where they lived or what their parents did for a living. She
wanted us to have friends we could trust.

Today, I have friends of all ages, races, and economic
backgrounds. But my closest friends are people of high character—
and I don't hang around with people I can't trust.
My mom believed that a person's character reveals what
he or she really believes about life. It it important to be honest?
Is it important to obey your parents all the time, or just
important not to get caught disobeying? Is there a God who
really rewards good character, or is it okay to do whatever it
takes to win?
That motherly guidance has impacted me professionally
as well. Because of the premium my mom put on character,
I look for it in the people I work with. My style in creating a
coaching staff is to hire talented coaches and teachers and let
them do their jobs. This means that I have to have people I
can trust implicitly, because I'm not going to spend my time
checking on them. I don't want coaches or players who are not
going to represent us well, either on or off the field.

Character begins with the little things in life. I must show
that I can be trusted with each and every thing, no matter
how trivial it may seem. By the time I was a teenager, my dad
let me stay out pretty late playing basketball with my friends.
It didn't happen right away—I couldn't be out at midnight
when I was thirteen. But gradually, my parents gave me a
little more freedom—and usually with someone they knew
would keep an eye on me. By the time I was sixteen or seventeen,
they knew that if I said I was playing ball with my
buddies in East Lansing or Ann Arbor, that's exactly what I
was doing and I wasn't involved in anything that could get
me in trouble. They had watched me grow and had given me
enough opportunities to test my character that, by then, they
knew they could trust me.

"Character may be manifested in the great moments, but
it is made in the small ones," wrote Phillips Brooks, an American
clergyman in the 1800s. Over time, we create ourselves
and build our character through the little acts we do.
When it comes to character, the game of football can be
a real test for our players. During any given season, they will
have many moments when their character will be challenged.
Will they decide to do the right thing, even when they know
doing so will be difficult?

Character can also be revealed at those same crossroads:
what are the values that guide the decisions these players make
in their day-to-day lives? Training camp reveals them early. A
person's reaction to winning, success, fame, recognition, and
acceptance reveals character. Would you rather be described as
successful and famous or as honest, forgiving, faithful, trustworthy,
understanding of others, reasonable, thoughtful, and
personally accountable?
Character is tested, revealed, and further developed by the
decisions we make in the most challenging times. We have
to know what is right, and we have to choose to do it. That
is how character is developed—by facing those decisions and
choosing the right way over and over until it becomes second
nature. It's just how you do things.

Outwardly, character reflects an inner life committed to
honor and uncompromising integrity. If we haven't allowed
our players, subordinates, or children to grow into those values
and learn to be accountable for themselves, then we have
done them a disservice.

Albert Camus once said, "Integrity has no need of rules."
I tend to agree. I don't have very many team rules for our
players. They know where I stand on things, and they know
that there are consequences for breaking the rules that we do
have. I try to apply one set of rules uniformly for our team,
while keeping in mind that the players are individuals and
come from different life experiences. Really, it's not any different
from what I do with my children.

Ultimately, character and its growth don't come from rules
but from the small actions of responsibility that occur day after
day. That's why I believe it's important to give our players a
certain amount of freedom—and the responsibility that goes
with it—to allow growth to take place. In the end, character is
a blend of inner courage, wisdom, and a sense of duty to yourself,
to others, and to something greater than you.

In a common world, becoming an uncommon man begins
by cultivating uncommon